The Virgin Mortician

In droves
Materializing from all directions
On twice volcanicized thrice frenetic avenues

In homicidal evergreen tree idols
Streets once devastated by smiles
In death
In birth
In flawless execution
In suicide
In the virgin mortician's marathon mind
In trash heap remains of his virginity
In Virginia in New York in conspiracy

As in
He fought the law
And it was a war
The law is a broken record in the optical illusory record store

And I'm in love
With the way that he spoke
With the crumple in his face
And the cool in his fate
And the clock in his stomach and the knuckles on his forehead
And the blood on his teeth and the freeze in his brain
And his breast in his breast
The trash heap heap trash bang anti-paradiddle
The lightning pricked my tongue my gun
The smoke dribbled down his gun done done

He was gone within a year, but everybody saw him
Oh, you mean the virgin mortician?
I mean the virgin mortician
I'm in the virgin mortician
I'm in the mortician